(Stormhold) The Story begins

[Jarek Walten]

In the distance the elegant towers rose like sparkling white tree's. Banners blew whimsically in the breeze, as the faint murmur of voices echoed down stone hallways. The large fortress seemed the epicenter of the vast city. Each road, street, and merchant guided the pathway to the shining beacon of hope and civilization. All manner of people, of wealth, race, and background came to the large fortress. Each one of them trying to wind through the variety of passages that led further into the deeper Tiers.

Peaking through the crowd one could spot the regal knights of the order. Polished armor, resplendent and shining in the dawn's thick light. Heads held high as weapons clanked along as they walked down cobbled paths. They were a symbol, a sign that perhaps things were not as dark as they had appeared.

One unusual young man stumbled and wandered through the second tier of the castle. His blue eyes darted about just beneath his wheat blond hair. One hand resting on his hip, as another held a small sheet of parchment with a small arrow on it, indicating direction. Jarek halted his steps at a rather large oval wooden door.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jarek gave a very loud pounding on the door. His voice echoing
behind it,

"Anyone there?"

While Jarek knew simple manners of pulling out chairs, and holding doors, the idea of soft noises in a city were lost upon him. Farm life had never been quiet, and as his father's hearing had grew thinner Jarek had learned to become louder.

The clerk at the first floor had told him this should be the place to inquire about becoming a knight. Jarek could still recall the legends his mother used to tell him as a child. Shining swords, and brave knights saving people and doing right. It was all he had ever dreamed of, and now he would see if that dream could become a reality.

[Gossamer]

One thing about Syliras was that it simply wasn't a city with a fortress, but rather it was a fortress city with a little spilling out between its arms where it gripped the sea and also the land. Sometimes it appeared that the towers were added as an afterthought to simply smooth over the harsh look of Stormhold that seemed (at least when someone pointed it out) to be a beast crouched on a cliff ready to fling itself over into the sea. And though it could not rival the sheer beauty of the pre-Valterrian architecture that remained, Stormhold had no equal in terms of its singular size. The castle itself was simply a city onto itself. It's four tiers had four very special purposes, and in times of trouble, the entire thing comfortably and easily housed the whole of the city PLUS any knights out in the countryside that would have to be recalled. Sure it had typical city streets and a docks area, but they were just added comforts given forth by people that had a need for tradition rather than practicality. For the knights, everything important was located in the castle, everything expendable outside. The animals in the stable and the farmer's market was the sole exception, except that Stormhold had a place for livestock and a massive storage of fodder as well. The Knights - the founders of Syliras - planned well.

Jarek followed the directions that most likely one of the gate guards or knights found watching the streets gave him, and was sent to the second tier office of recruiting. Anna Linta, daughter of Sir Linta a stewart knight, was manning the desk that afternoon. She smiled at him with a bright pleasant burst of enthusiasm as she answered the door. Two men were in the room talking. One looked severely wounded, his arm in a sling and a bandage wrapped around his skull. The other looked a great deal like Anna.

"Hello. I'm Anna Linta. This is Sir Alfred Linta and Kent Vaktru. Can we help you?" She asked, stepping back and allowing him through the doorway. It was obvious, once he entered the chamber, that it was more of a reception area for one of Stormhold's vast hallways that became an offshoot of the main commerce area.

[Jarek Walten]

The recruitment office was far nicer then what the young country man had been expecting. The idea of rooms stuffed with furniture were just a distant notion to the young country man. Even the idea of meeting real knights was a bit of a shock. Though the polite smiles and warm nods were most welcome to a new comer. The knights after all, were still very much as much legend as reality. As the question was raised a small silence fell across the room as Jarek eyed the wounded man.

Jarek's eyes seemed slightly confused more than worried. His knights after all were from storybooks and childhood stories. The idea that such titans could be injured, let alone seriously was a bit of a shock. It looked far more severe than any of the horse kicking's or bruised elbows of farm life to be certain. Yet Jarek did his best not to stare or seem awkward.

At her question he offered a warm smile as he took a small step forward,

"My name is Jarek, and I'm here to join the knights."

Of course Jarek himself had little to no idea what the process entailed. He only knew that he wanted to be one, and direct approaches were usually best. The purist in him hoped for some elaborate ceremony, with vows, and several litany of wrongs one would not commit. The child in him though was just eager to get the process started.

The young man waited, eager for his future to begin.

[Gossamer]

Anna looked thoughtful and nodded. The two men watched Jarek curiously and glanced at each other. Sir Kent Vaktru looked even more intrigued. Anna smiled and gestured towards an open door that lead to a small sitting room. "Sirs, will you join us?" She invited all three of them to proceed her into the room and have a seat. Both knights sat immediately, though Vaktru did so very gingerly. Linta dominated his chair even as the young Anna poured all three of them tea.

"Jarek, there are things about the Syliran Knighthood you must understand. Not everyone becomes a knight. In order to join the order your grandfather or father must have been a knight - that's called hereditary entrance. If you don't have a close living relative that is a knight, then you must find a knight willing to sponsor your training. That's not an easy thing to do sometimes because the knight's reputation then is staked on you bringing Syliras honor in the memory of Sylir and being the best at things you possibly can." She added, looking serious while trying not to discourage the young man. "Do you fall into the hereditary category?" She asked, somehow doubting he did - not coming from farmers. Knights knew who the sons of other knights were, and this stranger was just that - a stranger.

Sir Vaktru waited until Jarek answered, then carefully asked the next question. "Will you tell us a little bit about yourself?" He had a good reason for asking. He'd been looking for a squire ever since the skirmish that took the life of his son who was also his squire. He didn't want to mentor another close member of the family or a friend. Squires died a great deal. Instead, because he would HAVE to squire someone, he wanted it to be a complete stranger. That way, he figured it would be easier to loose them if it ever came to that.

[Jarek Walten]

As they entered the quaint office the warmth of the indoors cooled by summer breezes gusted along. Faint echoes of the hallways behind them silenced as the three of them had a moment alone. Each one of the knights casting stalwart reflections upon the polished wooden desk. Low candlelight and sunlight throw low oval windows illuminated each of them. The wood creaked as each of them sat.

Jarek's own chair creaked quite loudly as he sat against the firm wooden back. He was by no means a small man, just a little larger than most of the local city folks. He let the others sit first, his manners were still a important part of life. Yet he continued to watch the other two with awe, seeing them as the childhood legends he envisioned them as.

At her comment he cleared his throat,

"No family knights in my tree Ma'am. "

Upon hearing her other comments he eased in his chair a bit more,

"We I grew up in country on outskirts of town, I am a fine ride on a horse, and know how to read, write and the rest from home schooling."

He decided not to comment upon training with wooden swords and pitchforks as a boy, it might have just seemed silly. While in many ways he was a child, eager for the fable legend ahead, some of his was also far more mature. That was the side of Yahal, the side of quiet reservation and purity. A desire to follow his path, and strike back at the ills of the world. Yet the world was a big place, and Jarek still had much to learn of it.

[Gossamer]

Sir Vaktru was really interested then. His family was all farm stock, and the only reason he was allowed to join the knighthood was due to the fact his father saved a knight once. His father, a wheat farmer, then gained his son the ability to join the Syliran Knights by cashing in a favor. He'd always felt like he owed it to another young man somewhere... maybe this one was his chance.

Kent smiled and nodded at Jarek's words. "It sounds like your family did well on your education. I don't normally do this, but as I am from Farm Stock myself, and not out of knightly parents, I would be interested in taking you on as a squire. I have need of one. Mine recently... passed beyond. In that same battle, I was injured and am still on light duty recovering, so I have some time to help someone catch up. I have a set of rooms on the second tier... you could start today. Did you bring many things?" He glanced over at Anna and made a gesture. She instantly stood, went to her desk at the far end, and drew out some paperwork.

"You said you could write, Jarek? I need you to sign these papers. Basically they just want to know your name, your family - where your from - where we can contact your relatives if they are not knights. That way we can contact them if anything happens. We need to know where to send your things too. A knights life is hard... and often not lengthy. We need to know what to do to take care of things if the worse happens."

Name: Age: Place of Origin: Family: Location of Family: Where to send personal Effects in case of death: Signature:

She handed him a small wooden platter with the paperwork on it. There was a small ink well and a quill set in a small wooden holder.

[Jarek Walten]

As the small pen began to right it seemed there was one small fact Jarek had not mentioned. His skill at penmanship. Whether do to his education, mother's teaching, or father's strict policy of making him write all the family mail, the skill was quite clear. The soft curved strokes, the gentle movement of the hands, even the particulars of letters and puncation. Jarek filled in the small form, and spoke as he did so.

Name: Jarek Walten
Age: 23
Place of Origin: Syliran Outskirts
Family: Father Dermion, Brother Taren.
Location of Family: Farm on outskirts, Walten Place.
Where to send personal Effects in case of death: Walten Place
Signature: Jarek Walten

"I thank you for the honor sir, just a small bag with some spare clothes and rations."

Jarek was quite elated to join the knights, it was a lifelong dream after all. Yet in the back of his mind he could not shake his slight fear at battle. After all riding horses to round cattle, and waving wooden swords was one thing. Real combat, against dangerous foes would be quite another. Yet Yahal guided him here for a reason. He would not question the path he was on, long as he remained pure his questions would be answered in time.

[Gossamer]

Sir Vaktru smiled. "Well, now that is all taken care of, lets take you on a tour, find you a room off my suite, and get you down to the armory. You will need some basic equipment." Truthfully, the injured knight didn't seem in any shape to be on his feet for too long. However, he gave no indication as he nodded his thanks to both the receptionist and the other knight there. "So, You are from farm stock. I can appreciate that. I am too. I was the seventh son of twin brothers that both had too many boys and not enough land. My father used to joke it would have been ever so helpful of me to be born a girl. They'd been trying for six children to have a girl for my mother's sake. They needed help cooking. Needless to say, I grew up being better than average at cooking, trying to make up for that one comment. But I just wasn't cut out to be a farmer. I was more of the mindset of making the land safer. But I didn't join the knights until my younger sister - the daughter my parents always wanted - was killed in a boarder raid by a roaving band of brigades from Sunberth. The light in my parents eyes died that day... along with our crops. They set the whole of our fields and operations on fire. There was no outpost of Syliran Knights close enough to go after them. Needless to say, I've sent the last ten years making sure that doesn't happen to another farm family around here. And we have made really good inroads in spreading out our influence. Sylira is a lot safer now, for certain." He said, then glanced at Jarek as he lead him out of the offices, and down another wing that branched off from there.

Two corridors later - Jarek was starting to see how expansive the castle actually was - they came to a commons area that had a multitude of knights lounging around seemingly off duty. "You'll spend a good deal of time here in the commons, especially if you do not have a family." Sir Vaktru said as he greeted a few of the ones he knew and moved past. The commons had a kitchen (its very own!) attached and another area full of tables were several knights played cards and diced. Otherwise, many just seemed to be relaxing and enjoying each others company. "There are privies attached to each suite. You'll be allowed to use ours. Bathing is downstairs in the Soothing Waters. There's no charge for knights. And I expect you to report for training and duty on your schedule which will be assigned you. Every squire does chores as well in their off time... working in the stables, kitchens, and learning the operation inside and out." He paused then, nodded to himself, then glanced over at Jarek. "Do you have a mount? And can you ride. If not we need to remedy that immediately too... so riding lessons onto that list as well." He said, knowing if Jarek could ride, he probably hadn't had any exposure to mounted combat, which would be part of his riding lessons as well.

After walking by the commons, they passed four more doors before they came to a suite. It had Sir Vaktru's name on it and he walked right through the front doors and into a small reception area. Four doors plus the main corridor into his chambers lead off the reception. "One belongs to my housekeeper, one to my houndmaster. I am also in charge of the hounds here. The other two are empty. One was my.... belonged to my son." He said softly, then nodded towards the main hallway. "My rooms are down there. Please try to respect my privacy unless its urgent. I will do the same for you. All meals we take together in the commons. That will be on your schedule." He said, then turned, allowing Jarek a minute to leave his things so they could go down to the armory and get him some equipment. "If you leave your things here, you can select which room you want later."

With that, they were off again, walking back the way they came until they reached a door that ran off the main hallway labeled 'stairs'. Taking them gingerly, the Syliran Knight moved downward until they were once more on the ground floor in some private sector of the castle well away from the fourth tiers infamous bazaar. Two turns later, and they were in a the back doors of The Ironworks. "We'll get you custom fitted for armor, order it, and then head back towards the armory to get you a sword or whatever weapons you might need. Now, what sort of armor do you prefer?" He asked, not knowing if Jarek knew how to answer that question or not.